INTO BALLAD-LAND. 105 



" But, Prince, what sail cum' o' my men ? 



When I gae back, traitour they'll ca' me. 

 I had rather lose my life and land 

 Ere my merryemen rebuked me. 



Will your merryemen amend their lives ? 



And a' their pardons I grant thee 

 Now name their landis where'er they lie, 



And here I render them to thee ? " 



Thus the outlaw acquires "fair Philiphaugh," (which is still pos- 

 sessed by his representative,) Newark Lee, Hangingshaw, and 

 other lands, and the ballad ends, 



" He was made sheriffe of Ettriche Foreste, 



Surely while upward grows the tree ; 

 For if he was na traitour to the king, 

 Forfaulted he sail never be." 



We must next stretch southwards over the moorland to another 

 scene celebrated in song, Hassendean (or Hazledean), whence 

 the maid eloped 



" O'er the border and awa' 

 Wi' Jock o' Hazledean." 



A lovely and characteristic view spreads before us, rolling dun 

 coloured moors, chequered here and there with a browner 

 patch of fern, or a few warm tufts of late blooming heather. 

 The cawing of rooks floats to our ears through the fresh morning 

 air from a distant "clachan," while close at hand, on one side 

 of the track, a u wimplin' burn " endeavours to be a great one ; 

 and two old crows sit on a rail close to the road, trying their 

 best to puff themselves out to the magnitude of ravens. A 

 cross track winds down the valley to the left, with memorials of 

 what winter is in these wastes by tall posts, their upper parts 

 painted black, planted alongside of it every hundred yards or 

 so in order that the traveller may find his way over the snow. 

 At present, far below, the white sheep are dotted about, and 

 the shepherd wrapped in plaid and wearing the universal 



